I resisted as long as I could. After all, they’d been around nearly as long as I have (we’re both 55). Why was I so stubborn for so many years (ex-wives probably have multiple theories on that one)? Was it simple snobbery? Could my aversion be traced to a number of unsavory dining experiences and possible similarities with the yellow signage at Denny’s? Maybe I was harboring a psychological resistance because I once had to act as an arbitrator between two longhaul truck drivers who couldn’t agree on where they would eat breakfast, or could it be that I just haven’t been much for eating breakfast myself?
Whatever the reason, I have seen the light and the light was good. Waffle House makes a good breakfast. It took considerable effort to get me to darken their doors. My stepdaughter convinced my wife, who convinced me to put aside my prejudices and try it. My wife and I stopped by yesterday morning and, unlike several of my past experiences with Denny’s, I didn’t get sick at all. It’s not five-star dining by any stretch, but it was much better food than I expected. I had the ham and cheese omelet with sausage, toast, and hashbrowns – scattered and covered (with cheese), along with a tasty waffle, which I couldn’t finish because it turned out my eyes were bigger than my belly (something my Dad used to say).
So, if you’re like me and have never tried Waffle House, for whatever reason, I hope you’ll give them a chance to broaden your horizons the way they did for me. 
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